


When to be Soft

by beautifulterriblequeen



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Dissociation, Established Relationship, Ethari has panic attacks, Fluff, Gentle, M/M, Naked Cuddling, One Shot, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Runaan distracts Ethari from his anxiety, Runaari, Self-Doubt, Sweet, Therapeutic fluff, Touching, angsty feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 16:21:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21018698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautifulterriblequeen/pseuds/beautifulterriblequeen
Summary: Ethari's feeling panicky after getting triggered in the market. Runaan knows just what to do to calm him down.





	When to be Soft

“Ethari? Ethari.” Runaan’s hand settled lightly against the back of Ethari's shoulder as the assassin approached.

Ethari knew he was shaking. Knew Runaan felt it. Couldn’t stop. “I-I saw him again, in the market just now. Thought I did, anyway. I froze up until he turned and I realized the rest of his hair was all wrong. Totally different face. It wasn’t him.”

“That’s good,” Runaan murmured. “Good that you were certain.”

Ethari's breath shuddered, in and out. His whole chest felt caught in that panicked moment, like he couldn’t really be breathing at all. His skin stung with fear, and it seeped deep into his flesh, acidic and hollow, stinging with panicked bees. He managed to nod along with Runaan’s words, but he barely felt like a person. He was just a collection of parts and he was forgetting how they worked from moment to moment. Too caught up in the past. In the hurt. So very many hurts. He could never forget them all if he had a thousand years.

“Come with me.” Runaan’s velvet voice brushed his ear. His fingers entwined Ethari's and gently pulled him toward the bedroom. “I can help.”

Ethari could only shiver and shudder as he followed compliantly, let by the hand, watching Runaan’s long ponytail sway down his back. He knew what Runaan was offering. But the past was too big. He couldn’t remember all the other times Runaan had soothed him. Whether they’d worked. They must have. But his chest ached too much and he could see nothing but that pair of horns in the market crowd.

Runaan led him into the dim bedroom and closed the door, even though no one else was home. Their own private space, where no one could interrupt them, full of soft darkness and gentle glows. Ethari pulled off his shirt and sleeves, and shucked his boots and trousers, while Runaan did the same. Then Runaan dropped one knee atop the bed and held out a hand to Ethari .

Ethari took it, and they lay down facing one another. Ethari was still shaking, but the moment his head hit the pillow, Runaan draped them both with a light blanket. His hand cupped Ethari's shoulder firmly, pressing his warmth against him. His turquoise eyes, usually so intense, were as gentle as secret pools.

Ethari's breathing hitched, sped up, ran like a panicked deer across a meadow, full of sudden leaps and bounds. Runaan was here. Runaan was right here. Ethari was safe, finally, in this space. A soft whimper slipped out along with his heaving breaths. Then another.

Runaan slid both arms around Ethari, and Ethari tucked his face against Runaan’s neck. He hooked his leg over Runaan’s hip, pressing close. Runaan began to run his hands along Ethari's warm, dark skin, down his back, along his arm, tracing along his thigh. Those big warm hands pressed certainty and love into him with infinite care.

Ethari's breathing kept hitching, and it sped up slowly. _I can’t believe I thought I saw him,_ he berated himself. _It can’t be him, but I keep thinking I see— And now I’m such a mess. I have stuff to do, but I’m too blown out to work. I’m so useless like this. Why am I like this? Why does Runaan put up with me this way?_

In silent answer to the anxious maelstrom in Ethari's mind, Runaan’s hands never stopped soothing their way along Ethari's skin. The assassin pulled back in concern and studied Ethari's pained expression. His hand caressed Ethari's cheek.

Ethari managed not to let any tears slip out at that moment. Runaan pressed a kiss against his forehead and hummed inquiringly.

Ethari snuggled back against Runaan’s shoulder and wound his strong arms around him, clinging. He squeezed Runaan’s hip with his bent leg, needy for all the wrong reasons, silently begging for more.

Runaan kissed his forehead again, reassuringly. His hands slid up Ethari's thickly muscled back, drawing the elves closer together, and paused for a strong hug. Then his hands were in motion again, brushing through Ethari's hair, atop his shoulders, down his chest, around his hip, along his thigh. Runaan’s hands were strong and sure, but infinitely gentle. Ethari knew that his husband's true skill lay not in brute strength, but in knowing when to be soft, and exactly how soft to be.

The full-body sensation of Runaan’s gentle touch slowly began to sink in and overwhelm Ethari's anxious reactions. Ethari's stomach settled, and the panicked swarm of bees that had been living under his skin flew away a few at a time. But his breathing wouldn’t calm. He dug his fingers into Runaan’s back, tangled them in his long ponytail, squeezing that long white hair tight. Pressed his face against Runaan’s collarbone and huffed tiny, panicked breaths against his lilac skin.

Runaan ran his fingers through Ethari's silky mop and trailed his hand down the lavender markings on his neck, cupping it, pressing closer. Then he drew back once again, and Ethari felt the gentle weight of his gaze.

Runaan’s fingers traced Ethari's dark eyebrow. A thumb along his cheekbone. Knuckles brushing the line of his jaw. Ethari knew Runaan was checking to see if he was crying. If things were that bad. But they weren’t, not this time.

They weren’t that bad.

At that realization, Ethari's breathing finally began to ease. Runaan had seen that he wasn’t crying, and he’d drawn Ethari's attention to it with his touches. Ethari pressed his sturdy body against Runaan’s slender one, not in desperation but in relief and gratitude. His fingers loosened in Runaan’s hair, and he began stroking it softly. He snuggled against Runaan’s neck again. Runaan’s hands trailed ever so softly across his skin. Ethari finally managed a nice deep breath and let it out with relief, its warmth caressing Runaan’s throat.

Runaan held him, tangled under the blanket. Held him and soothed him.

The acid and the bees and the hollowness and the panic had gone. Ethari lay quiescent, relaxed, and very content in Runaan’s arms. Breathing. Breathing again.

Breathing in time with Runaan. Their chests pressed together, and Ethari smiled. He loved that feeling. And the feeling of Runaan’s hair in his hands, so soft against that strong back. And on the subject of hands, Runaan’s were always masterful. Warm, strong, sure, steady. His skin was always warm and smooth, too. And his scent was somehow comfortably familiar and slightly intoxicating at the same time.

Ethari turned his head just enough to press a soft kiss against Runaan’s throat. Runaan’s hands paused for just a moment before resuming their gentle stroking. Ethari's fingers twined in Runaan’s hair, and he pressed another delicate kiss onto Runaan’s skin, followed by a third.

Runaan’s fingers responded by curling against the muscle of Ethari's thigh.

Ethari pressed his lips against Runaan’s neck again and smiled. He was the one who pulled back this time, but only so he could capture Runaan’s lips in a gentle kiss.

Runaan responded eagerly, leaning into the kiss, and Ethari smiled against his lips. Such a patient lover, waiting until Ethari was calm and steady again. Until Ethari made the first move. Even after all this time. Time snuggled under the blanket, pressed skin to skin. Time as a couple, years and years now. Such a beautifully patient lover.

Ethari snugged his leg tighter over Runaan’s hip and subtly pulled, while his hands pressed Runaan further into their kiss. Runaan took his cue and slowly rolled Ethari onto his back, kissing him all the while, until he lay atop him with Ethari's powerful legs loosely wrapped around his slender hips.

“Feeling better?” Runaan murmured against Ethari's lips.

“Mmhmm.”

“Mmm. Then perhaps you’d like to…?”

Runaan would only break their blessed silence if he had something very important to ask. “Say it.”

Runaan smiled and kissed the corner of Ethari's mouth. “…Come with me again?”

Very important indeed. In reply, Ethari chuckled and sought Runaan’s lips with his own.

**Author's Note:**

> Just for clarity, what Runaan's offering to Ethari to calm him down is just the skin soothing, which is best done when you're not wearing anything. Offering sex to someone having a panic attack probably won't go over very well unless you specifically know that it will be helpful to that individual person. Spending several minutes intensely engrossed in running your hands all over your lover while neither of you are wearing a stitch will tend to turn you on. But you still need to wait until their mood matches yours. ;)


End file.
